“Where’s your homework, Timothy?”

Miss Evans looked down at the freckled, red-haired year two student.

“A… a m…monster ate it, m…miss,” he stammered in reply, not meeting her gaze.

“It must be a very hungry monster, then,” Miss Evans commented, peering over the top of her spectacles. “That’s the third time this week.”

Timothy sat silent for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Yes, Miss,” he finally said in a quiet voice. It seemed safest, really. He knew the monster was real but his mum and dad didn’t believe him, and now it seemed neither did Miss Evans.

“Well next time the monster comes for your homework, tell him to come and see me about it instead.”

Timothy breathed a sigh of relief, pleased to have some way out of the situation.

“Yes, Miss,” he replied. Again it seemed safest, and whether dealing with homework monsters or Miss Evans, that was the important thing.

     o o o O O O o o o

7pm, and the school was quiet, dark. But round the back a faint light shone from the window of Miss Evans’ classroom.

Inside, the stern-looking teacher was sat behind her desk, writing report cards by the light of a single desk lamp, a pile of homework jotters beside her. In the shadows, the misshapen figures of the children’s artwork loomed high on the walls, like stick men from a child’s nightmare.

One of them stepped out towards her.

“Yes?” Miss Evans asked, not looking up.  It was important not to show fear, she knew.

“Homework…” came a low growl from in front of her. “Homework… give.”

Miss Evans looked up at last. The homework monster was huge. Stick arms jutted out from mid way up a rectangular body, a body topped by a circular head with round lidless eyes and a gaping maw lined with triangular teeth. The mouth did not move at all as the creature spoke, she noted.

She set her pen down slowly and cradled her hands on her lap.

“Now that’s not how we ask for something, is it?” she admonished the creature. “Give me the homework, please, is what we say.”